The Story of a Boy Drafted to Korea: A Poem
by Cathy W
Summary: The title is pretty much self-explanatory; it is one boy's story of his experience in Korea. Don't worry, it's not too long!


The Story of a Boy Drafted to Korea: A Poem  
  
By Cathy W.  
  
My best friend and I were inseperable  
  
Since we were nine  
  
What was mine was his  
  
And what was his was mine.  
  
Then one day when I was eighteen  
  
The Western Union boy came  
  
To deliver a telegraph I had been dreading  
  
That said "Drafted to Korea" and my name.  
  
I ran down the street to tell him about it  
  
His mother opened the door  
  
Her eyes red and swollen from crying  
  
My friend had also been drafted in the war.  
  
At least we would be there together  
  
Helping each other through  
  
Because without him to support me  
  
I don't know what I would do.  
  
We arrived at boot camp six weeks later  
  
Our duffel bags packed and our uniforms pressed  
  
We arrived to a Major who only knew how to yell  
  
And scream, "The American Army is the best!"  
  
At the end of boot camp  
  
The Major said, "It's time to go, to go fight.  
  
Hold your heads up high  
  
For what you are doing is right."  
  
He looked us in the eye and stated,  
  
"You might very well be saving America, you know.  
  
The Commie threat is always present,  
  
And you have to defeat this godless foe."  
  
We were shipped to Korea  
  
Right to the front lines  
  
Where we tried to avoid flying bullets  
  
And invisible, deadly mines.  
  
We were heading into enemy territory  
  
The booms and bangs of weapons were too near  
  
My buddy was yelling something to me  
  
But the cracks of guns was all I could hear.  
  
I heard the bullet whiz by  
  
I heard the sound of flesh being ripped apart  
  
I heard a scream from far away  
  
As if it was torn from the heart.  
  
I saw my buddy's mouth open wide in shock  
  
Why did it have to be him? Why?!?  
  
Then I saw the blood pouring out of my chest  
  
And realized it was I who would die.  
  
He picked me up  
  
And dragged me out of the way  
  
Then he yelled in my ear  
  
"You'll be okay!"  
  
He got up and ran to the medics  
  
I saw him waving his arms at me  
  
The medics began to crawl quickly in my direction  
  
Before everything became too blurry to see.  
  
I awoke to a strange bumping feeling  
  
So I looked down to see only sky  
  
Then I heard the sound of chopper blades  
  
And knew that to a MASH unit I would fly.  
  
I was tired of fighting to stay awake  
  
So I surrendered to the sleep  
  
The blackness came over me  
  
The dark was black and deep.  
  
Sometime later I heard a voice from far away  
  
"Priority one! I'll take him now! Let's go!"  
  
Then the sounds of sirens from ambulances  
  
And I slowly opened my eyes to a painful glow.  
  
I was on a gurney  
  
Being bumped painfully  
  
Some corpsman were running toward the OR  
  
Where I would have surgery.  
  
I screamed in pain it hurt so bad  
  
I couldn't stand it---it burned  
  
It was eating the flesh of my chest  
  
At my scream, a tall man turned.  
  
"He's awake, let's get him prepped,"  
  
The tall, dark-headed man said.  
  
"Margaret, will you assist?"  
  
Then she looked down and leaned over my head.  
  
"He's young, no more than a kid,"  
  
The nurse said, tears in her eyes.  
  
"They keep getting younger," the surgeon replied,  
  
"And too many of them die."  
  
They put the mask over my mouth  
  
And I felt tired again  
  
But this darkness was different  
  
Than the other had been.  
  
It was brighter, there was hope  
  
Perhaps I would survive  
  
I didn't want to die yet  
  
I just wanted to go home alive.  
  
I woke up hours later  
  
In a room full of cots filled with wounded men  
  
There was a heavy weight on my chest  
  
But beside me was my old friend.  
  
"Hey, buddy!" I managed to strangle out.  
  
"What are you doing here?"  
  
"I couldn't leave you here not knowing how you were,  
  
So I went AWOL," he answered, coming near.  
  
"So how are you?" he asked  
  
His face full of fear.  
  
"Okay, I guess," I told him  
  
But his face didn't clear.  
  
Did he know something I didn't?  
  
Was this something so bad that he didn't want to tell me?  
  
Was I dying?  
  
What could it be?  
  
"Tell me the truth," I said,  
  
Staring into his face,  
  
"Am I really okay?  
  
Am I a hopeless case?"  
  
"Nah," he answered,  
  
Avoiding my eyes  
  
"You're lying!" I yelled.  
  
I could always tell when he lies.  
  
"You'll be just fine.  
  
They have the best doctors here.  
  
They even have a sign up  
  
That says 'Best Care Anywhere.'"  
  
I lay back down  
  
My chest was so tight  
  
I closed my eyes  
  
And whispered, "Good night."  
  
He grabbed my hand and held it  
  
I could feel his sweaty palm  
  
Then I drifted into a sleep  
  
Where my dreams were anything but calm.  
  
The bullets, the cannons, the bombs  
  
Everything aimed right at me  
  
Then I fell to the ground screaming  
  
Because I knew what true pain can be.  
  
I awoke with a start  
  
But it took longer for my eyes to open  
  
They didn't seem to want to work  
  
And the heaviness in my chest became a burden.  
  
"Doctor," I gasped  
  
As he walked by  
  
He stopped in front of me  
  
And I asked, "Am I going to die?"  
  
"What?" he replied, startled by my bluntness.  
  
I repeated my question with a sigh  
  
And he looked at my chest  
  
Then square in the eye.  
  
"I won't lie to you," he replied,  
  
Serious as can be,  
  
"Your condition is very serious,  
  
But you won't die on my watch; trust me."  
  
"But I'm having trouble breathing.  
  
On my chest I can feel a weight.  
  
Please, doctor, help me.  
  
Help before it's too late."  
  
"Let me check you out,"  
  
The lanky doctor said.  
  
"By the way, my name's Hawkeye Pierce,"  
  
He added as he leaned over me in the bed.  
  
I began to reply  
  
To tell him my name  
  
But suddenly I was coughing uncontrollably  
  
And running two nurses came.  
  
"Chest tube!" he yelled  
  
As he tried desperately to save me.  
  
"And get his friend in here!"  
  
Then I noticed it was getting hard to see.  
  
"We're losing him!" Hawkeye yelled  
  
Sounding like he was talking from way up high  
  
Was he getting farther away  
  
Or was I?  
  
I could hear my buddy  
  
Or at least I think it was he  
  
"Hang on!" he was pleading  
  
"Stay with me! Don't leave me!"  
  
But I could feel myself being pulled  
  
To a warm and fuzzy place  
  
Like a tunnel with a light at the end  
  
And there were tears coming down my face.  
  
For a split second I was back  
  
I was floating above my body  
  
Hawkeye had tears in his eyes  
  
As he desperately tried to revive me.  
  
The nurse was shaking her head sadly  
  
"He's gone, doctor," she said  
  
And her voice seemed to echo  
  
My buddy stared at her. "He can't be dead!"  
  
"Goodbye," I whispered as I floated upward  
  
I addressed my best buddy before I floated away,  
  
"Tell my parents that I love them when you get home,  
  
And thank you, buddy, for being there for me every single day."  
  
"And Hawkeye, don't blame yourself,"  
  
I had to add.  
  
"Blame the guns and the senseless killing.  
  
I shouldn't have been here, but at home with mom and dad."  
  
And I floated up and away  
  
But the last sounds I heard  
  
Were the sounds of weeping  
  
For yet another death that had occurred.  
  
THE END 


End file.
